


Stop. Don't Stop.

by Drarrymadhatter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrymadhatter/pseuds/Drarrymadhatter
Summary: Sirius is struggling with being Harry's godfather and feeling useless within the Order. Maybe Remus can talk some sense into him.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 15





	Stop. Don't Stop.

Sirius took another burning gulp of Firewhisky straight from the bottle. He had a glass around here somewhere but why bother looking for it — it would just slow him down. He dragged a shaking arm across his mouth, catching any dribbles that had escaped from his mouth, and focused blearily on the battered shoebox sitting on his lap. He’d been drowning in the dozens of pictures and letters and keepsakes from his Marauder days for hours, trying to calm the whirlpool of fury and sadness that still swirled in his stomach from the events of earlier that day.

Was it so wrong that he wanted to tell Harry about the Order, their suspicions? How in the name of Merlin could they expect Harry to kill the Noseless Bastard without knowing this stuff? Molly’s words echoed in his ears, filling him with angry heat. What right did she have, anyway? Harry wasn’t her child. Who was she, really? A maternally insane, pompous old ninny sticking her nose into everything, that’s what! 

Sirius snorted furiously and swallowed deeply from the bottle, the whisky burning a welcome trail down his throat. Yes, Harry was young, but he wasn’t a kid, and Sirius knew that better than anyone. 

_“He’s not James!”_ Molly’s accusation flashed in his head like it had been doing repeatedly since he locked himself away in his room. Of course, Harry wasn’t James — he was so much more! He was the best bits of his mother and father blended together. The thought made Sirius smile, and he squinted at the keepsakes on his knee. 

Sirius reached into the box and lifted out a rumpled old postcard with a generic beach picture on the front. He remembered getting this along with his usual morning post a few days after James and Lily had left for their honeymoon. They were so happy…

He blinked aggressively at the tears beginning to burn behind his eyes and took yet another deep pull from the bottle. He knew Harry had a job, and, for some reason, he was the only one willing to accept that fact. More than that, Sirius was determined Harry would _survive_ that job. He owed it to James, and he owed it Harry, and dammit, he owed it to himself. He couldn’t lose anyone else. 

He had no idea how long he’d sat there holding the postcard when the door to his room clicked and swung open. He didn’t bother to look around at the intrusion; he knew who it was. No one else knew the Marauder’s locking ward, after all. He resolutely kept his eyes on the postcard as he took another sip from the bottle, ignoring the sound of the door closing and the firm footsteps that drew nearer until Remus was finally standing in front of him. Sirius continued looking at the messy scrawl on the postcard. He didn’t need to look at Remus to know the man would be livid with him. He always was these days.

“Harry is upset, Sirius; we’re all struggling, and you’re up here getting pissed.” The voice was heavy with emotion, as he knew it would be.

“Why do you care?” Sirius demanded, a slight slur marring his words. He began to lift the bottle back up to his lips when Remus grasped the bottle and pulled it from his grasp. 

“Do you really need me to answer that?” Remus asked, sighing as he twisted the lid of the bottle back on and set it on the sideboard out of Sirius’ reach. “Of course, I care, you idiot.”

Sirius swallowed audibly and scrunched his eyes closed for a second. He didn’t want to talk about _them_. Not just now. What would it achieve? Quickly, he cast his mind around for a change of subject.

“Do you remember this?” Sirius held the postcard out to Remus, who took it with a sad smile. 

“Yes, I remember,” breathed Remus wistfully. “They were so happy.” 

Sirius felt his hackles rise at that, although he didn’t know why.“Well yeah, a honeymoon generally has that effect on people, Moony.”

“Sirius,” warned Remus, “no need for sarcasm. It’s not becoming.”

“It was a bloody stupid comment to make. Talk about stating the obvious.”

“Now, I see where Harry gets his childishness from…”

“Fuck off, Remus.” What was that supposed to mean? If anyone around here was childish it was _him_ , not being able to take a fucking joke. And Harry wasn’t being childish, he was reacting as well as could be expected. What the hell did these people want from him, from them both — blood?

“I’m surprised you still have this,” remarked Remus suddenly, fingering the tattered and smudged postcard carefully. “It’s seen better days, that’s for sure.” 

“Not all of us are happy to just forget the past, Moony.” 

“Please don’t, Sirius.”

“Don’t what? Honour our friends? Think of the past? Why the fuck not? Unlike some, I don’t forget.” 

“I have never forgotten our past.” Remus had inserted some ‘professor’ into his tone, but if he thought that was going to get him anywhere with Sirius, then he clearly had another think coming.

“Memories and friendship and love mean more to some of us than others, clearly!”

“How can you say these things to me?” Remus sounded hurt and tired, and it irked Sirius deeply, like he was the wounded party in this situation, as per usual. 

“I mourn James and Lily every day, Sirius. How could I not?”

“And what about me? Did you mourn _me_ every day?” He couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into his words, but he thought if anyone had a right to feel bitter, then it would be him. _Mooney will just have to deal,_ he thought to himself savagely.

Remus lowered himself to his knees in front of Sirius, who refused to look at the man before him. What good would it do?

“Of course, I did, Sirius. But I wasn’t allowed to do it out loud.” His voice was shaky and low as if struggling under the weight of all the regret the careworn man constantly carried around with him. 

_As well he should_ , thought Sirius pettily. 

“All the evidence pointed to you being guilty, and I hated myself for loving you even after what you had supposedly done. You have no idea how much I wish I could just go back in time and fix it.”

“Yeah, well I want a million galleons and a pet dragon. We can’t all get what we want.”

“Look at me, Padfoot.” For a moment Sirius resisted, but the pain in the voice drew him in, pressing him to listen. Slowly he let his eyes drift over to meet Remus’, and he felt a surge of annoyance at the man’s words. “Those years, they were some of the darkest of my life.”

“You weren’t the one rotting away in Azkaban,” spat Sirius hotly. “Stop making it all about you.”

“No, Sirius, you need to stop making it all about _you_ .” The previously tired and emotional voice was suddenly firm and cold, each word striking deep into Sirius’ heart. “This isn’t about us or James or Lilly. It’s about Harry. He only has _us,_ and we have to be ready to help him. What if something were to happen tonight while you were in this state?”

Sirius’ eyes went wide at the implication in Remus’ words. 

“I would die before I let anything happen to him; you know that.”

“Yes, I know that, but killing yourself by the bottle isn’t going to do anyone any good. Words don’t mean anything, do they? He needs actions, Sirius. He needs you to stop wallowing in self-pity like an overgrown man-child and step up!” 

Sirius gasped and felt some tears escape from his eyes, causing the other man to soften his next words, his face crinkling with concern. 

“He needs you — you’re the closest thing to a parent he has. Sirius, don’t let him lose you too. Not like this.” The swirling mess inside Sirius’ chest broke its dams, and before he knew what had happened, Remus had wrapped his arms around him, holding his shuddering body as he tried to explain himself. 

“I’m just so scared, Remus. I promised Lily and James I would look after him, and so far, I’ve fucked it up.” 

“You haven’t,” Remus soothed, rubbing pale hands up and down his back, “but you will if you don’t pull yourself together. You’ve been through hell, more than some of us, but you have a second chance. You have Harry; soon you’ll have your proper freedom, and you have me.” 

Sirius sniffed and leaned back enough to look at Remus. _Merlin, the man is beautiful_ , he thought, as he looked into the brown eyes which were round with worry.

“I know, I love him more than anything. Except, perhaps you.” 

Remus smiled sadly at Sirius’ whispered words and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“I know, Padfoot,” he whispered back. “Me too.”

They looked at each other for a long moment before Remus hauled Sirius to his feet, keeping hold of his arms as the man wobbled unsteadily.

“First things first, though. You need a sobering potion and a shower.”

  
  
  



End file.
